There are two things that you probably know about André 3000. 

The first is that he’s one of the greatest rappers of all time. He and Big Boi, the other half of Atlanta hip-hop duo Outkast, went on an incredible 10-year tear starting in 1994, releasing five excellent albums back to back. They played a major role in putting not just their city on the map in hip-hop, but the entire Southern United States. 

During that time, Three Stacks laid down some of the most impressive verses anyone had ever heard. From his scarring tale of a pregnant woman who died of a heroin overdose on “Da Art of Storytellin’ (Pt. 1),” to his explanation of why he dropped out of high school on “Git Up, Git Out,” to his ridiculous use of anapestic tetrameter on “Aquemeni,” he ran clinics on lyricism, flow, and profundity. My personal favorite, and one of my favorite songs of all time, is his autobiographical spoken-word performance on “A Life in the Day of Benjamin André (Incomplete).” He was also a hitmaker, releasing successful singles with Outkast like “Rosa Parks,” “Ms. Jackson,” “Roses,” and “Hey Ya” — one of the most popular songs of the 21st century and the song that made me fall in love with music as a 7-year-old.

The second thing you probably know about André 3000 is that he is quite eccentric — this was immortalized in a “Key & Peele” sketch about him running into Big Boi in a coffee shop — and has become a recluse since Outkast’s “Speakerboxxx/The Love Below” went diamond. He has always been uncompromising. He declined a Super Bowl halftime show when Outkast was at the height of its popularity because he refused to shorten the group’s songs. Those of us who claim Three Stacks as a top-five rapper in history have been rebutted with the fact that he never released a solo album, which apparently disqualifies him from contention. Instead, he has spent the last 20 years focusing on other endeavors, like his work in fashion design and acting — including his portrayal of Jimi Hendrix in the 2013 film “Jimi: All Is by My Side.” Occasionally, he would drop a guest verse out of the blue and set the internet on fire, like on Frank Ocean’s “Pink Matter” and Kanye West’s “Life of the Party.” 

So when a long-awaited André 3000 solo album, “New Blue Sun,” was announced on Tuesday, many like me were hopeful it would put to rest the notion that he cannot be considered a top-five rapper, dead or alive. These hopes were quickly demolished by the news that the album will contain not a single bar, or lyrics of any kind. Instead, André 3000 is going to play the flute. He is going to play a lot of them, as the album includes “a number of flutes as well as digital wind instruments.” Apparently, he owns 30-40 flutes. The 87-minute-long instrumental jazz album is stretched across eight songs with 87-minute-long titles like “Dreams Once Buried Beneath the Dungeon Floor Slowly Sprout into Undying Gardens” and “Ghandi, Dalai Lama, Your Lord & Savior J.C. / Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy.” The first song is titled, seemingly trolling rap fans who have waited two decades for his solo debut, “I Swear, I Really Wanted to Make a ‘Rap’ Album but This Is Literally the Way the Wind Blew Me This Time.”

I have mixed feelings about this announcement. On the one hand, hearing that one of my favorite rappers is finally releasing a solo album, but one that will feature absolutely no rapping, was incredibly disappointing. André 3000’s perspective is a particularly unique one that I think is sorely missed in today’s scene. The guest verses he has dropped here and there have not been enough to satisfy my hunger, and I am sad that I won’t get to hear his “time travelin’, rhyme javelin, mind unravelin’” insight on this new album.

But at the same time, I am not just a hip-hop fan but a fan of music in general. Jazz is another of my favorite genres, and I think that Three Stacks’ long-awaited debut could bring more mainstream attention to the modern jazz scene in the way that Kendrick Lamar’s “To Pimp a Butterfly” did. But beyond that, I am happy for André 3000 on a personal level. He is clearly doing what he wants to and not what his fans demand or expect from him. We can’t control the creative avenues he chooses to pursue, and we should feel lucky that he has chosen to share what he produces with us. While some hip-hop fans might think André 3000 still has something to prove as a rapper, he doesn’t seem to, and his ability to ignore public pressure is admirable.

At the 1995 Source Awards in New York City, Outkast accepted the Best New Artist Award. While walking to the stage, some East Coast elitists booed the Southern group. André 3000 told the crowd what has since become an iconic line: “The South got somethin’ to say.” All this time later, we are still listening to what he has to say, even when he isn’t using his words to say it.